


high blood drumming on your skin

by troubadore



Series: geraskier kink bingo fills [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Breeding Kink, Knotting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teratophilia, werewolf geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: He'd been warned that a werewolf was on the hunt that night.He stands in the doorway of the tavern for a moment, heart rate spiking with anticipation, before heading out into the cold night. He wraps his cloak around him, pulling the hood up over his head as he sets off. Instead of the inn, though, he heads for the nearest road out of town.A werewolf in the woods, hm?Looking up at the full Hunter's Moon above him, a large bright beacon in the ink black sky, he really fucking hopes so.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: geraskier kink bingo fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913302
Comments: 31
Kudos: 487
Collections: Geraskier Kink Bingo





	high blood drumming on your skin

**Author's Note:**

> happy spooky day lads! have some werewolf fucker fic ~~with accidental breeding kink whoops~~ to celebrate uwu 
> 
> this fills the "werewolf" space on [geraskier kink bingo](http://twitter.com/BingoKink) card E

He'd been warned that a werewolf was on the hunt that night. 

The town is small but profitable, bordered on one side by high mountains and a thick wood on all the others. He's performed in its one tavern for a handful of days, raking in enough coin to see him through the next couple of towns, and has finally deemed it time to take his leave. 

As he dons his cloak—thick wool that keeps away the chilled bite of the late autumn wind and dyed a lovely deep red, truly one of his more coveted possessions—the barmaid pauses next to him and frowns. 

"Leaving already?" she asks. 

"Adventure is always calling," he replies with a grin, "and who am I to ignore it?" 

"You'd be best to, at least for tonight," she tells him. "All the roads out of here will be nothing but hunting grounds." 

"Oh?" His eyebrows raise, curiosity settling beneath his ribs beside the wanderlust—and something else, something like hunger but not for any food or drink. "Some sort of ravenous beast out and about, then?" 

"Aye." She collects empty tankards from the nearest table, gathering them on a tray. "There's a werewolf what's made these woods its home. Dangerous to travel through them on a night like tonight. Best for you to stay another night at the inn and travel on when the sun has risen." 

With that, she goes back to work gathering used tankards and plates. He stands in the doorway of the tavern for a moment, heart rate spiking with anticipation, before heading out into the cold night. He wraps his cloak around him, pulling the hood up over his head as he sets off. Instead of the inn, though, he heads for the nearest road out of town. 

A werewolf in the woods, hm? 

Looking up at the full Hunter's Moon above him, a large bright beacon in the ink black sky, he really fucking hopes so. 

_ You're going to get yourself killed,  _ a voice in his head admonishes him, sounding suspiciously like his sister, but he ignores it. What's life without a little danger, after all? Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that. 

And, oh, the thought of what he might gain tonight by making himself the target of a hungry beast—hungry, he hopes, for something a little different than its usual fare. He thinks of being  _ full _ and it has heat pooling in his gut, his cock twitching in interest. 

_ You have no shame,  _ the voice then says, exasperated, and he can't quite argue with it on that. 

It takes little time at all to get himself nice and lost in the woods, a proper innocent little soul wandering too far from the path. He follows the spill of moonlight through the trees, his only light source, and hums softly under his breath. The air is quiet, only the gentle buzzing of night insects filling it. 

A tingle starts the back of his neck, and he feels distinctly like he's being watched. Glancing around provides no source for the sensation, and anticipation settles around him like his cloak. He pauses, listening. 

The soft snap of a branch makes his head whip around. He sees two glowing points of gold in the darkness between the trees, can just make out the large shadowed outline of the beast, and his breath catches. 

"Oh, you're big," he says in awe as it steps out of the darkness and into the moonlit patch he's found himself in. "You're  _ very  _ big." 

It  _ is  _ a werewolf—and a beautiful one, at that. It stands upright on two legs like a human, towering over him in height and the breadth of its wide, muscular torso. Its fur is a pure snow white that seems to shine subtly under the moonbeams. Its eyes continue to glow gold as it watches him intently, and his eyes are drawn to its sharp fangs when it opens its maw. 

"You're a long way from the safety of the path," it says, stalking forward slowly until they're but an arm's length apart. The low growl of its voice sends a shudder up his spine. 

"I was looking for you," he manages, biting his lip and grinning as coyly as he can. "I was told there was a beast on the prowl tonight." 

More heat pools between his legs as it circles him, his cheeks flushing when it leans in to press its maw to his neck and inhale his scent, knocking his hood back. He shudders again as it licks him, tasting him. 

"You heard there was a beast and you came looking for it?" the wolf asks, sounding amused. It presses close to him, body hot and hard against his back. Its large hands settle on his hips. "You smell like an eager whore." 

A soft moan escapes him and he presses back, deliberately grinding against the wolf. He grins at the growl it gets him and boldly reaches up to tangle his fingers in soft white fur, tilting his head back to offer more of his neck. "Maybe I am." 

He feels the wolf's sharp fangs scrape against the delicate skin of his throat, the tips resting over his pulse point. His breath catches again, his heart hammering in his chest as anticipation rushes through him, and he arches into that touch of danger. 

" _ My, _ " he breathes, eyes closing, "what big teeth you have, mister wolf." 

It earns him another low growl that sends another pulse of heat through him. "All the better to eat you up with, little fox."

A laugh knocks out of him, drawn into a long moan as those large hands grip him tighter, pulling him back into the bulging cock he can feel against his ass. Sharp nails— _ claws _ , he thinks distantly—dig into the tender skin of his hips under his shirt, pinpricks of pain that skitter up his nerves and turn into pleasure that sparks through him. 

The wolf's hands roam over him as they grind together, pulling at his shirt and trousers. He whimpers and bites his lip when one of those hands presses over his own cock, rubbing him through thick fabric. He forces his eyes open, tilting his head down to watch as thick fingers rip through his laces with ease and dip inside to touch him. 

"And what big hands you have," he says, his own hands sliding to rest against the one still on his hip. Together they both barely cover it. 

"All the better to hold you down while I fuck your tight ass," the wolf purrs in his ear, and he shudders with want at the heat and hunger in its voice. 

" _ Oh, fuck, _ " he gasps, eyes fluttering closed again as a claw drags carefully over him, just above his cock. It twitches at the sensation, more pleasure pooling in his gut. 

He feels a rumble against his back, the wolf pressing its maw into his neck. "So sensitive, reacting to the slightest touch," it says, teasing. "You really are an eager whore."

He groans when it drags its claws down his aching cock, gripping it in its large, hot hand, the other still holding his hip. It presses the point of one claw into his tip where he's already leaking precome; his hips buck forward and he cries out, shaking in the wolf's hold as his knees go weak. 

" _ So  _ eager," it purrs in his ear, and he feels its rough tongue lick the shell before caressing down his throat, leaving a trail of warm saliva on his skin. Its nose buries into the crook of his neck. "You smell good enough to eat, little fox." 

A haze of pleasure settles over him as the wolf works its hand on his cock, stroking over it slowly before dipping its claw in the tip again to draw out more precome. His thighs ache from trying to keep upright under the sensations coursing through him, and his hands run aimlessly over the parts of the wolf he can reach: its arms, its face, gripping its hip as it ruts against him. 

The air around them is warm from the heat of their bodies and their panting breaths; sweat beads along his temple and mats his hair down. He tangles his hands in the wolf's thick fur and tugs as it brings its hand slicked with his precome to his ass and circles a finger around his rim, barely pressing into him before taking it away, teasing him. 

He pushes back, wanting it  _ in _ him, wanting to be  _ stretched _ and  _ filled _ , and is rewarded with it finally pushing into him fully. The wolf starts up a slow rhythm, careful of its claws, pulling it out and pushing back in, adding a second to start stretching him open for more. It twists them and spreads them, spreads  _ him,  _ dragging its claws gently against his insides, thumbing along his rim. He gasps and moans, pleasure lighting up his blood, hips moving on their own to get the wolf deeper deeper  _ deeper _ . 

Dropping a hand down, he reaches back and searches for what he really wants, fingers circling the thick girth of the wolf's hard and leaking cock—they don't quite meet and the thought of how it's going to fill him, stretch him,  _ spear  _ him open makes him moan again. He squeezes it, dragging his hand over it, down to where it bulges slightly at the base— _ knot,  _ his mind supplies, and  _ gods, yes _ —and grins when the wolf snarls and thrusts against him. 

"Oh m-my," he gasps, body strung tight with coiling pleasure, "what a b-big cock you have— _ ah! _ " 

His breath is knocked out as the wolf bears him down to the ground. His cloak pools around him, pushed out of the way, and his trousers are pulled down to his knees in a swift motion. It spreads his legs with its thighs, settling its hot cock in the cleft of his ass and rutting against him, smearing its own precome over his skin. 

It leans over him, breath hot on his neck and sending shivers up his spine as it says, "All the better to breed you with, sweetheart." 

He whines when the fingers in his ass press deeper, searching for that spot inside him that'll make him lose his godsdamned mind. They spread, stretching his hole as a rough tongue is added, licking over his rim before pushing in alongside the fingers, and he rakes his nails through the dirt beneath him, scrabbling for something to anchor himself as he's swept away in the heat coiling in his gut. 

"Please," he begs, voice slurred. He can feel his spit on his chin from where he's drooling, but he can't find it in himself to give a shit about that. He pushes his hips back, wanting more more _more._ "Please please _please_ I'm ready, I'm ready, give it to me, _pl—EASE oh—_ "

Those fingers finally hit their mark, rubbing insistently against that spot, and he clenches around them as his body arches at the bolts of tingly pleasure shooting up his spine, a moan drawn out of him. 

"Needy little fox," the wolf's voice growls above him, rumbling against his back as it leans over him, pinning him down with its body. Its maw presses into his throat above the bunched hood of his cloak, nosing at the pulse point, fangs scraping gently over his skin. "You think you're ready for my knot?" 

" _ Yes, _ " he gasps, rocking against those fingers as they massage that spot in him. "Yes yes yes  _ please  _ I need your knot so bad, I'm ready for it,  _ please _ —"

His own cock leaks steadily between his legs, hot and heavy, and he can feel his balls drawing up, the coil of pleasure in him tightening, but he needs  _ more.  _ He needs to be  _ filled,  _ needs to be  _ stretched  _ and split open by that thick cock he can feel pressing hot against his thigh where the wolf is rutting and smearing precome. He needs it  _ inside him,  _ locked there by the knot he knows is starting to swell at the base. 

Another whine pulls its way out of him when those fingers are pulled away, leaving him empty and bereft of the fullness he craves. He can feel himself clenching around nothing, and he pushes his hips back, grinding against the wolf's thigh, begging with his body for what he wants. 

Those large hands settle on his sides, holding him still with a strong grip that he knows will leave bruises, sharp nails scratching over him, and he shivers. He wants to be marked, claimed,  _ owned _ — 

There's pressure at his hole, and then the wolf's cock is pushing  _ into  _ him, stretching his rim wider than its fingers had, almost painful, and he keens as it goes further and further, filling him inch by agonizingly slow inch. His head drops to the ground, body slumping at the way he feels so  _ full  _ already—and it's only the head. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," the wolf pants above him, and he moans as it pulls out and pushes back in, another inch deeper. "You're so fucking tight. Clenching around my cock like you're made for it. Hungry for it. You  _ are  _ hungry for it, aren't you. Hungry like I am." 

" _ Yesss, _ " he whines, rolling his hips back to take more. He wants  _ more.  _ "I'm starving for it. Need you to feed it to me, give it to me—" 

He cuts off with a cry as more of the wolf's cock is pushed into him. He's so fucking stretched now, speared open on it, and he  _ loves  _ it. The pain of it doesn't even register anymore, just sparks of pleasure lighting up along his veins. His own cock leaks a pool of precome into the dirt below him as he's thrusted into with short snaps of its hips, building a rhythm. 

"Gonna fuck you so good, little fox," it says, voice nothing but a rough growl. It pulls him back as it thrusts forward, burying the entirety of its cock in him in one go, and he cries out, trailing off on a moan. "Gonna fill you up with come until you're leaking it, make you round with it, breed you with it. You want my pups, sweetheart?" 

" _ Fuck _ , yes!" he cries, trying to meet the wolf's thrusts with rolls of his hips, bouncing against it. The air fills with the slick, squelching sound of its cock being sheathed in him over and over. "Wanna be so full of your come, wolf, want your knot plugging me up, want your pups making me big, too big to walk— _ ah! _ " 

"That's right," it purrs above him, claws digging into his hips as it fucks into him harder, faster, no doubt leaving thin scratches in his skin—ones he'll trace over and smile as he thinks about this night. "You'll be too heavy to move, so you'll just lie around and I'll just have to fuck you some more so you don't die of boredom." 

The thought of taking the wolf's cock all the time, just endlessly full and stuffed with it, filled with its come, pushes him over the edge without warning, cresting over that hill of pleasure. He shouts as his body convulses and shakes as his orgasm washes through him, and he clenches around the wolf's cock as it thrusts in to the knot and then forces it into him, past his overstretched rim and locking into place. 

It howls loud and satisfied as it comes inside him, body curling over his to sink its teeth into his neck, and he whines as he feels its hot come pumped into him in thick spurts. The knot is secure inside him, making him feel over-full, and he sighs, eyes closing and body slumping to the dirt as ecstasy and euphoria settle into his limbs. 

"Oh, fuck," he breathes, and it comes out tired but smug. 

Gentle fingers brush his sweat-matted hair from his head, the claws just barely scraping over his skin in a soft caress, and he smiles, leaning into the sensation with a hum. 

"Sorry," his wolf says when he sucks in a breath as a finger brushes over the place on his neck where he can feel it starting to bruise. "I should have been more careful." 

"It's perfect," he reassures sleepily, voice starting to slur. "Not like it's the first time you've left a claiming mark on me, is it, my dear witcher?" 

Geralt hums above him, nuzzling his maw into the crook of his neck above the hood of his cloak. He's asked what it is about that particular place his wolf likes so much, and apparently it's because that's where his scent lingers and pools the best, caught in the fabric of the cloak. 

He thinks that's the most oddly romantic thing he's ever been told. 

Jaskier finally turns his head from where he's had it smushed into his arm, opening one eye to peer up at his wolf. Geralt's eyes glow back at him, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, fur the same pale ivory color. Beautiful, as always. 

He shifts and bites his lip on a whimper when the knot tugs at his abused hole, still very much locked inside him. It pulls a growl out of his wolf, too. 

"Watch it, little fox," he warns, nosing at Jaskier's temple. "We've got a lot of moonlight left." 

Several more rounds of hot fucking, he means—more time spent locked together by the knot and being pumped full of come. Anticipation burns through Jaskier again, cock twitching beneath him. Oh, he wants it  _ so  _ bad. The way Geralt grins says he knows it too. 

"Sweetheart," he purrs, and Jaskier shivers at the hunger in his wolf's voice, feels those big hands on his hips, those sharp teeth on his neck, the thick cock still filling him with come—

"I'm going to eat you up." 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) and [tumblr](http://geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek.tumblr.com)


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